My boss Fran was the single most humourless person I have ever met. She was a fifty-year-old divorcee with a history of being evil and an attention to detail that required the most stringent behaviour of all her staff. No place for a nineteen-year-old kid who was just trying to earn some money.

Fran has a way of looking at someone that literally makes them feel two centimetres tall. Eyes like gimlets and a particular way of holding her jowls that makes one think, "you have displeased me. Prepare to pay the ultimate penalty". I nearly spontaneously combusted on the spot.
It's okay. I can escape from this alive. "Erm, er, nothing."
"No, go on. Tell us."

The second that followed was an eternity of torment as Fran's eyes bored into the back of my skull. Her jowls firmed yet further. I thought she was about to spontaneously combust on the spot. I felt myself shrinking, fidgeted in my chair, and tried to make sure I didn't fall through the weave of the padded seat.

Finally, after I had considered using the fourth-floor window (that's the fifth floor to Americans) as an escape route, Fran said, "oh, the Goon Show. I love that."

Then Fran decided she would quote some Goon Show herself... she said "Min, Min, Min Min Min...?"
Without conscious thought I continued in a Minnie Bannister high-pitched voice, "Yes, yes, yes yes yes?" Fran looked at me, and then I did spontaneously combust....